


Child of the Night Sky

by squirenonny



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Next Generation, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 00:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12947622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: After a mysterious signal leads the paladins to an uninhabited moon, an intruder appears in the Black Lion's hangar.Oddly, Black doesn't seem to mind.





	Child of the Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoomedTimeline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomedTimeline/gifts).



> This next gen AU and all associated characters belong to Bird. [Check them out on Tumblr!](http://confused-bird.tumblr.com/Next-Gen-Au)

Shiro stood on a barren ridge overlooking a sprawling valley dotted here and there with scraggly brown plants. The landscape had the feel of an old western, painted in sepia tones, the thin air tinged yellow near the horizon. The castle-ship sat a little over a mile behind him, gleaming silver spires unnaturally crisp against the backdrop.

“Where exactly did this signal come from?” Shiro asked, reaching out to steady Lance as a section of loose gravel crumbled underfoot. The weak sunlight reflected off his visor, which was sealed against the moon’s oxygen-poor atmosphere.

The clatter of keys echoed in Shiro’s ear. “Ten feet, maybe?” Pidge said. “Seriously, you guys are right on top of it.”

“Yeah...” Lance exchanged looks with Shiro, then spread his arms to encompass the barren valley. Nothing larger than coral-like plants lived on this moon; even the air remained stagnant around them. “I think there might be something wrong with your scanners, Pidge. There’s nothing here.”

“I’ll run the scan again, but I’m telling you, you’re _there._ ”

“Nothing personal, Pidge,” Shiro said, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder to quiet him. “We just want to be sure.”

They grunted, then fell silent as they worked. It was pure chance Green’s scanners had picked up the signal in the first place. A single burst of Quintessence, too weak to reach beyond the edge of the solar system and so quick the castle’s main scanners had flagged it as unremarkable.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Keith said, his voice clipped. “This could still be a trap.” Shiro didn’t have a visual on the bridge, where Keith, Pidge, and Coran were gathered to help direct Shiro and Lance, but he imagined Keith was wearing a hole in the floor pacing behind Pidge’s station. He’d wanted to bring the lions on this expedition, but Lance had draped himself over Keith’s shoulder and whispered something that made Keith flush and grudgingly agree to hold off on the heavy firepower, though he’d promised to come get them in Red the second things got sketchy.

Pidge’s frantic typing slowed. “You know we don’t actually know Lotor’s involved, right?”

Keith snorted. “Better to assume the worst,” he said. “Hunk, Allura, you still there?”

“Hear you loud and clear, buddy,” Hunk said. “Allura’s schmoozing up to the locals, but we’re two minutes from Yellow if you need us.”

“Good.”

Shiro’s eyes went to the dusty red crescent that dominated the sky. Hunk and Allura had remained on Dovrura while the others took the castle-ship to the larger of the two moons to investigate the anomaly. Allura had been concerned for their safety, but she trusted her team. She trusted Shiro. So as much as he wanted to ask her how the talks were going, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

“We don’t know what this is,” he said evenly. “That's why we're here. And we are being careful, I promise.”

Lance grinned in the direction of the castle-ship, as though Keith could see him out the window. “You heard the man, samurai. We’ll be fine—unless Lotor’s found a way to weaponize pebbles.”

Keith was quiet for a long moment, then laughed softly. “Fine,” he said. “But you owe me a massage when you get back.”

Shiro forced a smile for Lance, who remained at the alert, his bayard tapping against his thigh. The fact they’d encountered nothing overtly hostile on the trek out here wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been, when the anomaly looked so much like the dimensional rift the team had encountered while Shiro was gone and the energy signature of Lotor’s ship.

“Okay,” Pidge said after a time. “I double-checked the scans, and I was right. You’re standing literally on top of the origin point.”

Lance met Shiro’s eyes, then glanced pointedly at the dusty rock underfoot. “Secret bunker?”

“The castle’s not detecting any sizeable cavities in the area,” Coran said, “But if it’s small enough we might not be able to pick it up at this range.”

“Right,” said Pidge. “Shiro?”

“Way ahead of you.” Shiro took out the portable scanner Pidge had given him and set it on the ground. Three small legs immediately extended from the base and dug into the ground to stabilize the device. But five minutes later when the device finished its scans, it showed nothing new.

Pidge sighed. “Well, I guess that’s it, then. Lotor didn’t build anything here.”

“I still don’t like this,” Keith said.

Shiro smiled. “Noted. We’ll keep an eye on the scanners just in case the anomaly crops up again, all right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Good.” Shiro clapped Lance on the shoulder as the younger man dismissed his bayard. “In that case, we’re gonna head back. See you soon.”

* * *

The rough terrain made for slow going, but Shiro and Lance made it back to the castle without incident. Keith and Pidge were waiting in the entrance hall when they arrived, Pidge seated on the staircase with their computer, Keith pacing nearby. He stopped when he caught sight of Lance and made a beeline for him, tension melting away.

“So. Back to Dovrura?” Lance asked, lacing his fingers with Keith's.

Shiro nodded. “I’ve left Allura at the mercy of politicians for long enough, I think.”

Pidge snorted, not looking up from their work. “Please. She’s got the entire planet rallying behind Voltron by now, just watch.”

“Yeah...” Shiro bit down on a smile, ignoring the look Keith and Lance shared. As though they had room to talk, when it had taken less than fifteen seconds for Lance to coax Keith into leaning back against him—Keith’s arms crossed over his chest, one of Lance’s draped over Keith’s shoulder. Shiro met them pointed look for pointed look, then connected to the bridge comms. “Whenever you’re ready, Coran.”

“Roger that! Just another tick and--”

An insistent chime interrupted Coran, and Shiro tensed. Not for the alarm itself, but for the rumble that started in his feet, raced up his spine, and settled in beside his heart. The others didn’t hear it—but they wouldn’t have, any more than he would have heard the call of the other lions.

“What was that?” Pidge asked.

Shiro was off running before Coran had a chance to check what had triggered the alarm. Keith straightened, Lance called Shiro's name, and Pidge yelped, fumbling their laptop as they surged to their feet. Shiro didn’t slow for any of it, just raced for the elevator.

“There’s an intruder!” Coran cried. “Down in the Black Lion’s--”

Shiro silenced his comms with a thought as the elevator door slid open. The lights were at half power, but they flickered on at his arrival, illuminating Black, who crouched in her usual spot at the center of the hangar, her voice vibrating in the air in a mix of confusion and wariness. Her chin rested on the ground, and a figure stood before her, hand on her nose.

Another light turned on, hitting the stranger like a spotlight. They gave a start, snatching their hand back from the Black Lion’s nose, and spun to face Shiro. They wore an opaque mask that reminded Shiro vaguely of the Blades’ suits: it was molded to the stranger’s head, with a luminous slit at the level of the eyes and a slight bulge over the mouth that might have been an oxygen mask or voice modulator of some sort. The rest of their attire was similarly matched black, white, and gray armor; slim-fitting and flexible like Allura’s battle suit.

The stranger’s hand dropped to their hip, and Shiro moved on instinct, hand coming alight. He charged toward the intruder, low to the ground, as he’d learned to do in the Arena. Assume the enemy is stronger than they appear. Make them fight for every hit. Most importantly, strike hard and fast. The longer a fight went on, the more chances you had to die.

The stranger froze, just for an instant, as Shiro approached. It was impossible to gauge emotion with that mask of theirs, but their hand lifted away from their hip and their spine went stiff, as though they hadn’t expected a fight.

The moment passed, and the intruder dodged back, footwork light and quick as they led Shiro around the hangar, slapping his arm aside with a palm to the inside of his elbow when his strikes got too close. They were obviously used to close-quarters, and they showed a wariness for his arm that suggested they’d seen it in action—or at least heard tales of what it could do.

Yet for all their skill, the intruder made no move to strike back at Shiro. They made a sound once, like they wanted to say something, but the word stalled in their throat, and they had to retreat as Shiro came in for another pass.

Black rumbled a warning, and Shiro shot a glance her way. The intruder had come here for _her_ , a fact that would have been concerning in its own right even without the fact that Black had dropped her shields. She hadn’t opened up, but would that have lasted? Could this person have hacked the lion somehow, implanted a line of code that made Black think of them as a friend?

Shiro shifted, careful to keep himself between the intruder and the Black Lion as they danced across the hangar floor.

“Wait!” the intruder said, holding up their hands as a space opened between them. “Please—I don’t want to fight you.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Shiro feinted to the left, then spun around, reaching out with his cybernetic hand for a nob near the jaw of the stranger’s mask. Shiro’s touch melted the electronics inside the control node, causing the mask to flicker and vanish. The intruder gasped, eyes going wide, and stumbled backward, reaching up with one hand to check the controls. They snatched their hand back at once, wincing as sparks snapped at their fingertips.

Shiro himself stood frozen, searching the stranger’s face. For the space of one heartbeat, he thought he recognized them—their short, dark hair with pale bangs; the piercing eyes; the stark red line across the bridge of their nose that curled up toward the outer corners of their eyes.

They were… human?

No.

Shiro stopped breathing.

With a roar, Allura was there, her staff flashing in the hangar lights as she swung. It cracked against the intruder’s head. Shiro cried out in horror, lifting one hand toward them, but he was too late, and the intruder dropped to the floor.

Allura barely spared them a second glance before she crossed to Shiro, grabbing his chin and forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Shiro,” she said. “ _Shiro._ Are you all right?”

Shiro blinked, his gaze drifting back to the fallen form behind Allura. “Fine,” he said. “Are they okay?”

Allura frowned at him, then at the intruder. Hunk had knelt beside them—Shiro hadn’t even noticed the Yellow Lion’s arrival in the commotion.

“Holy--” Hunk clapped a hand to his mouth. “Guys.” He squeaked as the elevator door opened. Keith charged out ahead of the others, sword in hand.

“Shiro! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Guys,” Hunk repeated, breathless.

“Fine,” Shiro said. “What is it, Hunk?” Shiro paused long enough to kiss Allura’s cheek, meeting her eyes and willing her to see that he was okay, then hurried over to Hunk and the stranger. One look at the crumpled form, and at Hunk’s pale face, told him he been right.

Hunk reached out as though to touch the stranger’s red facial markings—not just under their eyes, but a small vertical band on their lower lip, as well—but hesitated at the last minute as Coran joined them, his usual calm disrupted at the sight of the stranger.

“Quiznak!”

Allura turned, grip on her staff tightening as she did so. “What?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Not… wrong, exactly,” Hunk said slowly, staring at Coran like he expected the man to shatter at any moment. “It’s just… They’re Altean.”

* * *

What followed was ten minutes of chaos. Everyone crowded around the intruder, exclaiming with varying degrees of shock, suspicion, and excitement as Coran numbly confirmed Hunk’s assessment. The stranger’s ears were a bit shorter than Allura’s or Coran’s, their facial markings not quite so brightly colored—but the scanner in the med bay confirmed their Altean heritage.

Allura had insisted on restraints, though she’d seemed to be fighting herself on the matter, and Coran had put the stranger into a cryopod to clear up a minor concussion. That left them twenty dobashes to figure out how to approach the situation—and to theorize about their presence on the castle.

“Well, _obviously_ they’re the source of that weird reading earlier,” Pidge said, pulling up the data from the med scan on their laptop. They’d all relocated to the rec room, though so far only Pidge, Hunk, and Lance had taken advantage of the couch. The others stood or paced the room, tension thick in the air.

Hunk leaned over Pidge’s shoulder, frowning. “I’m not seeing anything like the anomaly here.”

Pidge pursed their lips. “I know. Maybe they have some kind of magic. You know, like Haggar’s?”

“Yeah, _or_ they could be working for Lotor,” Keith said. “I don’t trust them.”

“The first surviving Altean we’ve seen?” Allura asked. She had one arm wrapped around her midsection, the other hand hovering near her mouth so she could worry a hangnail. Shiro edged closer to her, placing his hand in the small of her back. She smiled weakly at him. “I suppose it’s possible, but… Lotor’s father destroyed our entire people. Why would they work for him?”

“They may not have a choice,” Keith said.

“I suppose...”

Lance kicked his feet up onto Hunk’s lap, crossing his arms behind his head. “Maybe they’re from the Mirror Universe.”

“Mirror Universe?” Shiro arched an eyebrow. “The other reality?”

Allura shivered, her eyes fluttering closed. “I hope not.”

“I doubt anyone could have made it over here without Voltron, anyway,” Pidge said.

Hunk glanced toward Coran, who stood at a computer terminal along the wall, monitoring the intruder’s status remotely. He seemed not to notice the conversation going on around him.

“I don’t know you guys,” Hunk said, tearing his eyes away from Coran. “You’re all assuming they’re an enemy. But Black was cool with them, right? Maybe we should give them a chance.”

There was muttered dissent at that, but Lance looked thoughtful and Shiro couldn’t help but think about Black’s distress when the stranger had gone down. It had been her prodding more than anything that got the intruder to the med bay for a scan.

Coran’s computer beeped, and the others immediately turned toward him, the same silent question etched into every face.

“They’re coming out of it.” Coran switched off the computer and turned, pasting on a smile. “If it’s all right with you, Princess, I’d like to speak with them first. Alone.”

Keith looked like he was going to argue, but a glare from Lance stopped him. Allura nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Alright, but if they try anything, we’re handing them over to the Blade.”

Keith nodded once, satisfied, and Coran’s smile turned strained. But he acquiesced and left without another word. Allura put up a feed from the med bay on one wall, and Shiro rubbed her back as Coran appeared there, catching the intruder as they fell from the pod.

“Easy now,” he said, steadying them with a hand under their elbow. The stranger reached for their head, but the handcuffs pulled tight. They froze, eyes flying open.

Allura stiffened.

“I don’t think they’re dangerous,” Shiro told her in a low voice. “They weren’t trying to hurt me earlier when we fought.”

Allura pursed her lips, still staring at the video feed, where the intruder had finally lifted their head, staring at Coran in shock.

“I’m terribly sorry for all this,” Coran said, guiding the stranger toward a seat against the wall. He crouched down like they were a frightened child rather than a grown adult. “I’m afraid you gave us a bit of a fright back there. We’ve got a number of enemies who would have reason to infiltrate this ship.”

The intruder dropped their eyes to their wrists, tugging half-heartedly at the restraints. “Believe me, I know.” They smiled wryly as Coran’s brow pinched in confusion, then leaned back in their chair until they were practically lounging. “So what do I need to do to convince you I’m a friend?”

“You could start with a name,” Coran said.

The smile twitched wider, and the stranger’s eyes drifted skyward. “My name? Aeron í Allura Altea.”

Allura jerked away from the screen so violently Shiro had to take her by the arm before she tripped over the step behind her. She’d gone ashen, her eyes wide with shock that quickly turned to outrage. She turned on her heel, wrenched out of Shiro’s grasp, and stalked toward the door.

“Allura…?” Lance asked, sitting upright on the couch as she passed. He shot a look at Keith, who in turn looked at Shiro, who frowned and followed after Allura, the other paladins falling into step behind him. A hundred questions crowded his mind, and he didn’t dare ask a single one as Allura jabbed the button for the elevator.

_You trust this person,_ Shiro thought in the direction of his lion. _Don’t you?_

The Black Lion didn’t answer.

* * *

_Aeron í Allura Altea._

The name echoed in Allura’s ears with each step, a mockery of all logic, a slap in the face for someone who had lost her entire people. They finally discovered the existence of another Altean and _this_ was how they presented themself? With taunts and brazen lies? Claiming a name they could not possibly hold?

The elevator ride down two floors to the med bay was interminable, not least of all for the anxious silence of her friends. Allura crossed her arms and leaned away from Shiro’s tentative touch, and when the door slid open, she stormed out of the elevator, down the corridor, and into the med bay. Coran still knelt before “Aeron,” one hand on their arm in a paternal gesture that stoked Allura’s ire.

Aeron looked up, eyes darting to Shiro before returning to Allura and locking there. They began to rise, mouth open to spew further lies, but Allura jabbed a finger in their direction.

“You,” she said sharply, “are not Aeron í Allura Altea.”

Aeron’s gaping mouth snapped shut, and something flashed behind their eyes. “I am, though.”

“Impossible.” Allura crossed her arms. “Where did you come from?”

“The Castle of Lions.”

Allura’s shoulders hitched toward her shoulders, a shout building in her throat. Coran smoothly inserted himself between Aeron and Allura, his eyes sharp with suspicion though he maintained the same warm demeanor he’d had since Aeron awoke. “Funny,” he said lightly. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Well, no. I haven’t been born yet.”

Shouts of surprise and incredulous questions burst out of the gathered paladins, but Allura hardly heard. She took a single step backward, head spinning. Time travel. _Time travel?_ It made no sense—and yet that name. Aeron í Allura Altea.

Aeron, child of Allura of Altea.

_Her_ child.

“Impossible.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, indistinguishable in the roar of voices, but Aeron looked at her and smiled as though they’d heard. A moment later, they huffed at the continuing furor and raised their hands. “One at a time. One at a time!” The room slowly quieted, and Aeron settled back in their seat. “Thank you. Now, who wants to start?”

Pidge leaned forward, eyes shining, but Keith was faster.

“Do you really expect us to trust you?” he demanded. The lights on the thigh of his armor were glowing, an unspoken warning that he was ready to summon his bayard—and from Aeron’s grim expression, they knew it.

“It’s the truth.”

Keith’s face darkened. “You really expect us to believe you’re—what? A time traveler? _Seriously?_ Lotor probably sent you to steal the lions.”

“Which is why I’m here,” they said dryly. “Lionless.”

“I never said you were a _good_ thief.”

Aeron rolled their eyes. “There’s no need to be rude, Uncle Keith.”

Keith choked on air, his eyes going wide as Aeron grinned—a brief moment of devious glee, quickly smothered. It reminded Allura all too much of herself. Of having to grow up too quickly, of snatching joy when it came, of constant awareness of the face she presented to the world.

“No.” Allura shoved aside the questions and formless desires creeping into her mind and forced herself to think rationally. “Time travel isn’t possible.” She hesitated in the face of Aeron’s fathomless stare and glanced to Pidge and Hunk. “Is it?”

Pidge spread their hands helplessly. “You tell me. Our scientists theorized that it's possible with wormholes—we just can't create a stable one. Or travel through without getting ripped apart.”

Hunk nodded thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Yeah, but you’ve obviously got that figured out. We use wormholes like, every day. And space-time is pretty flexible, guys. If we can travel across the universe in two seconds, there’s no theoretical reason you couldn’t also travel back in time.”

“Except for the issue of temporal navigation,” Coran said. He paused, smoothing his mustache. “Or vortex monsters.”

Lance’s eyebrows shot up. “Vortex monsters?”

“Urban legends,” Aeron said. “Early Altean experiments with time travel were universal failures. Nothing ever got to the point in time it was supposed to reach, regardless of which direction it was traveling. Some people said there were creatures that hunted the timestream and ate anything that ventured outside the normal current.” They lifted one shoulder. “But I made it, so I’m betting it was more an issue of the proto-time-travelers missing their marks by a few light years. Or a few millennia.”

“Right.” Shiro held up one hand and shook his head. “Sorry. Even assuming time travel is _theoretically_ possible, what proof is there that _you_ traveled back—how long?”

Aeron scanned the room, their gaze resting on Shiro for only a fraction of an instant before it continued on to Pidge and Hunk. “Judging by how young you all look? I’d say about thirty years.”

“Uh-huh,” Keith said. “Sure.”

Lance planted his palm on the side of Keith’s face and pushed him out of the way so he could sidle up to Aeron, flashing a smile. “So what’s future me like? Dashing? Famous? How big’s my fan club?”

“And how _did_ you end up here?” Pidge added. “Does someone really invent time travel in the next thirty years?”

Aeron averted their eyes and scratched the back of their neck. “I don’t actually know how I got here. But I have pictures from my time if you...” They trailed off, glancing down at the plain white medsuit they wore. “Correction: I have pictures in my armor… Where _is_ my armor?”

Coran retrieved the armor from a storage compartment, ignoring Keith’s protests. Aeron took the breastplate and fished out what looked like a white echo cube. A flick of the finger brought up a digital menu, and a holographic image appeared in the air above Aeron’s hands. For a moment, Allura thought it was an image of her mother—tall, stately, a glimmer of a smile hinting at political savvy.

A chill raced down Allura’s back as she realized it wasn’t her mother. It was _Allura,_ aged by several decades, with lines at the corners of her eyes and strain weighing down her shoulders.

“Ohmygosh!” Pidge lunged forward, stars in their eyes. “Is that derived from the holoprojector on the bridge?”

“Augmented with Olkari tech?” Aeron asked. “Yeah. Pretty neat, huh?”

“The colors are so crisp!” Pidge bounced on their toes as Aeron twirled the cube between their fingers. The image of Allura flickered, replaced by one of a young girl, dark-haired and gap-toothed. She was sprawled across the Red Lion’s paw, beaming at the camera. Then she was gone, and the older Allura was back, this time with a young Altean man—her son?

Allura closed her eyes, seeking calm. “You could have faked those,” she said. “You could have--”

She broke off as Lance gasped. Allura opened her eyes and found herself looking at a wedding photo. Oh, the details were off, but she could still see the Altean traditions at the heart of it: the colored motes of light that gave the scene a soft aura, the clusters of crystals dotting the rafters of the old atrium at the heart of the castle.

“Is that…?” Hunk glanced from the smiling couple, dressed in dark suits of an unfamiliar cut, fingers interlaced and matching smiles on their faces, to Keith and Lance.

Lance’s hands covered his mouth, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and he reached out blindly for Keith, who looked shell-shocked, his eyes riveted to what very much looked like a picture of their wedding day.

Keith licked his lips, tearing his eyes away from the holo with obvious effort. “Allura’s right. These prove nothing.”

“Okay.” Aeron tapped the holocube, and the image vanished. They tilted their head to the side, eyes sliding almost—but not quite—to Shiro. “There’s one more thing I can show you.”

“And what’s that?”

“The black bayard.” Aeron held out their hand, and a bayard appeared. The paladins stiffened, Keith automatically summoning his own bayard. Shiro held out his hand, pressing it against Keith’s chest.

After a moment’s pause, Shiro stepped forward, held out his hand, and summoned his bayard. “Pidge, can you tell if that’s the genuine article?”

“Sure,” they said. “Just give me a few minutes.”

* * *

Aeron’s bayard was real.

Shiro had to hear it twice—from both Pidge and Coran—before he could wrap his head around it. The bayards were ancient, complex devices inexorably linked to the lions. The thought of there being two black bayards was incomprehensible, and that along with Black’s reaction to Aeron cinched it. Aeron was, impossibly, telling the truth.

Hunk was the last to cling to his skepticism, rambling on about how someone might create a forgery that could fool all their resident tech wizards. He mentioned Quintessence modulation and pocket dimensions, but Shiro hardly heard him. Nor, it seemed, did Keith, who stormed forward and snatched Aeron’s bayard out of Pidge’s hands. A familiar sword appeared in a flash of light, indistinguishable from his usual weapon. Keith’s scowl deepened.

“It’s real,” Aeron said, sounding bored. They looked vaguely irritated by the debates, but had been remarkably patient, all things considered. They glanced now at Keith, gauging his reaction. “I promise, I’m not lying to you.”

“You’re from the future,” Shiro said, numb.

Aeron glanced at him, then quickly away. “Yes.”

“And Allura is…?”

“My mother? Yep.”

Shiro’s eyes lingered on Aeron’s facial markings, and the scar across his own nose prickled. “And...” Shiro cleared his throat as every eye in the room turned his way. Every eye, that was, but Aeron’s. “What about your father?”

Aeron stiffened, a scowl darkening their face. “I’ve probably said enough already. Spoilers, right? Don’t want to screw up the timeline.”

The flat dismissal felt like a slap to the face, and Shiro was too stunned to do anything but nod and say, “Sure.”

Was he… not Aeron’s father? He and Allura hadn’t talked much about the future, but the thought that they might not be together—might not even be on good terms—hurt more than Shiro would have thought possible.

Shiro didn’t have long to consider the possibility. As Coran removed Aeron’s restraints, Allura turned and stalked from the room. Aeron watched her go.

“You know...” Hunk pushed his fingertips together as he edged forward with Pidge. “I know we said no spoilers and all, but tech is an exception, right?”

“Yeah,” said Pidge. “We have to figure out how you got here if we’re going to send you home.”

Aeron blinked several times, then chuckled, but Shiro didn’t stay to hear their reply. Instead, he followed after Allura, following the soft, quick beat of her footsteps, which led him to the elevator. He caught the door as it began to close.

“Are you okay?” he asked, joining Allura inside.

She smiled, but it was strained. “I’m fine, Shiro,” she said, leaning into him. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

“I know.” Shiro wrapped his arms around Allura, a lump rising in his throat. “I know. But, hey! Looks like your kid ends up becoming the black paladin. That’s something to be proud of, right?”

Allura pulled back, a solemn expression on her face. _Her kid._ Not _theirs._ At least Shiro wasn't the only one upset by that. “Shiro…”

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said, stealing a kiss. “I’m here to stay. I promise.”

* * *

“So… exactly how many pictures can you fit on that cube thingy of yours?”

Lance tried not to fidget as Aeron looked at him, one eyebrow arched in near perfect imitation of Shiro’s Dad Face. Lance hadn’t yet pinned down what the deal was between them—Aeron had made a conspicuous effort not to be left alone in a room with Shiro, but still watched him across the room when the whole team was gathered together. Maybe Shiro wasn’t their dad, _maybe_ , but Lance was positive Aeron had known him growing up.

So what had happened?

“Are you asking me because you’ve suddenly developed an interest in tech,” Aeron asked, “or because you want to know more about the future?”

Lance’s eyes widened. “What? Me? Pssh. I don’t care about the future.”

“Uh-huh…” Aeron glanced around the room, which was empty except for the two of them. Coran, Pidge, and Hunk were all busy working out theories for how to get Aeron home, Shiro and Allura were on the bridge, and Keith had spent most of the last two days on the training deck—for no particular reason, of course. Definitely not because he was freaked out by the wedding photo.

_Wedding_ photo! Lance couldn’t believe it. He and Keith were married! At least… he thought they were. He was pretty sure, and as giddy as that made him, he couldn’t tell what Keith was feeling. He’d been trying to figure out how to broach the subject with Keith, but when he came up blank, he’d decided to go fishing for more information.

“Sorry.” Lance rubbed the back of his head. “I shouldn’t have--”

“Okay,” Aeron said.

Lance blinked. “What?”

“Okay. Just—don’t tell my mother.”

Lance snapped his mouth shut and nodded hastily, leaning forward. “My lips are sealed! You-- What--?”

Before Lance could formulate a question, Aeron had pulled out their projection cube. A hologram appeared in the air between the two of them. Lance and Keith, now middle-aged, smiled at the camera. Each had an arm around the woman in braids between them, who flashed a charming smile at the camera as she fired off finger guns. Lance held a much younger child on his hip, though she seemed to be trying her hardest to wriggle away. Her dark hair was escaping her pigtails, and she was missing a tooth.

“That’s Rose,” Aeron said, pointing to the woman in the center. “She’s a few years older than me, tough as nails. My brother’s only a year older than her, and he took it on himself to try to reign her in.” A smile tugged at Aeron’s lips, and they bit down on it. “Can’t say I made his life any easier, to be honest. At least I knew better than to try to imitate daddy before I had any training.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah… I’m pretty sure she would have taken the Trials at age six if Uncle Keith let her. Anyway, she’s my red paladin. Sometimes I want to strangle her, but I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Aeron flipped their hand, then pointed to the girl hanging off Lance in the picture. “This little cutie is Claudia. Now, look. We've all played The Floor is Lava, but Claudia raised it to an art form. Not sure how much longer she can persuade people to let her climb all over them, though.”

Lance laughed, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. He had a family. He had a husband and two beautiful daughters, and there they all were, smiling so bright their joy was infectious. “Hey, Aeron? Am I… Am I good dad?”

Aeron’s smile softened, and they flipped over to a different picture, one that showed Keith holding a tiny bundle. He seemed awestruck, handling the baby like she was made of glass, while Lance kissed the side of his head.

“You’re a great dad,” Aeron said. “Both of you. There’s been fights, sure. Lots of big personalities in your family, and Rose was the definition of a rebellious teen. But at the end of the day, Rose and Claudia both know you love them. Rose still calls home every day, you know. Don’t tell her I told you, but I think she’s a little homesick.”

Lance’s vision blurred, and he blinked furiously, trying to memorize the image of him and Keith with their daughter. “Thank you,” he whispered, smiling at Aeron. “Really.”

They switched off the projector, nodding. “It’s family,” they said, as though that explained everything. Lance frowned, but Aeron only shook their head and stared down at the cube in their palm, blinking back tears.

* * *

Things were awkward between Allura and Aeron for the first few days. Aeron spent most of their time with Coran—and often Hunk and Pidge—trying to work out the mechanics of time travel. Allura had hung around the fringes of these conversations enough to have heard all the theories: mineral deposits on Dovrura’s moon, Quintessence flows in the system, odd energy signals coming off the sun. The castle in Aeron’s time had been nowhere near Dovrura, so it was likely they’d been pulled to this system by the castle-ship itself.

The intervening days had done wonders for the awkwardness Allura had first felt around Aeron. It was still surreal, of course. Even when she was able to forget, for a moment, that they were a time traveler—and her child—they were still the first Altean she’d seen from this universe other than Coran and Haggar, and she found herself tearing up at the oddest moments.

Aeron was considerate, though, and they avoided talking about the future. They talked instead about Aeron, about Allura and Coran, about Altea of old. Aeron had grown up on stories of their people’s planet, and they were hungry for more, and Allura found it liberating to talk to someone who felt that same intangible connection to the past.

By the end of the first week, Aeron had settled into the castle routine. They theorized with Coran and Pidge and Hunk, they talked with Allura about the past, they snuck off with Lance—and both got cagey when asked what it was they did when they barricaded themselves in the rec room. Even Keith began to warm to the new arrival, though it was usually Lance who enticed him to be social. The mice found Aeron to be a particularly comfortable perch, and Allura was saddened, if not surprised, to realize Aeron had never met these mice—or if they had, they’d been too young to remember.

The only one Aeron hadn’t connected with was Shiro.

He poked his head into the bridge now, hesitating for a moment when he caught sight of Aeron. Pain flickered across his face, but he covered it up as Aeron turned toward him. Allura’s heart ached. Shiro didn’t want to push Aeron, and Allura understood that, but she’d seen the way Aeron looked at him when his back was turned. They’d all seen those looks. Even now, the quiet conversation between Hunk, Pidge, and Coran petered out as Aeron caught sight of Shiro and stiffened. They gaze dropped to the floor, and Shiro shied away.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, forcing levity. “I was looking for Allura.”

Aeron stood, rubbing the back of their neck. “That’s fine. I should probably go.”

“You don’t have to--” Shiro began, but Aeron waved him off.

“I’m meeting Lance soon anyway. It’s fine.”

Shiro watched them go, and Allura felt another pang. She stood, approaching Shiro and wrapping an arm around his waist. “You should talk to them.”

He frowned at her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Hunk piped up from the other side of the room. Pidge _eeped_ and ducked their head when Shiro and Allura turned. They clearly didn’t want to seem like they’d been eavesdropping. Hunk was less bashful. “Have you seen the way they look at you, dude? I don’t know what’s going on there, but they want to talk to you.”

“Who wants to talk to who now?” Lance asked, strolling in with Keith.

“Aeron wants to talk to Shiro,” Hunk said.

“Oh.” Lance chuckled. “Well, _yeah_. Is there such a thing as dad-pining? Cause holy quiznak, it’s worse than when you were trying to work up the courage to ask Allura out. Ow.” Lance’s smile vanished as Keith smacked the back of his head.

Shiro crossed his arms. “You’re imagining things,” he said flatly. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Aeron just left to look for you.”

“Me?” Lance asked.

Keith frowned. “I’m pretty sure they were heading for the training deck, actually.”

Shiro pursed his lips.

“Go,” Allura said, giving him a gentle nudge.

Shiro opened his mouth, then hesitated. “I don’t know...”

“Go. Trust me. You both need this.”

Shiro stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll give it a try.”

* * *

Shiro found Aeron on the training deck, sparring with a gladiator. Watching them fight was mesmerizing. Their grace and power reminded him of Allura, though at the moment Aeron was fighting unarmed. Shiro hadn’t yet seen the form the bayard took for them; he didn’t think anyone had. Aeron preferred to train in private.

When they executed a flawless takedown, stealing the gladiator's sword and running  it through—the exact move Shiro had taught himself in the Arena—Shiro understood the wish for privacy.

“Not bad,” he said, entering the room as the castle reclaimed the damaged gladiator. Aeron stiffened, spinning around with a guarded look on their face. Shiro held up his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Aeron turned away, wiping sweat from their brow. “It’s fine,” they said. “Someone looking for me?”

“Just me.” Shiro hesitated just inside the door, searching for tact. But he’d _been_ tactful for the last week, always giving Aeron an out, always deferring to whatever wall it was dividing them. Suddenly Shiro found he just wanted answers. “Am I your father, Aeron?”

Aeron lifted their head, eyes wide and wild. “Are you…?” They licked their lips. “I told you, I shouldn’t say too much about the future.”

A flare of anger tightened Shiro’s jaw, and he forced himself to breathe through it. “ _Please,_ Aeron. I’m just trying to figure out what I did to make you hate me.”

That, finally, got a reaction out of them. They stared at him, lips parted, and pain crept into their expression. “You didn’t do anything.”

Shiro closed his eyes. “Clearly I did. I… I don’t know what. If I—if I left you and your mother, if I let the team down, if...” _If the things I did in the Arena finally caught up to me,_  Shiro thought. “I don’t want to believe I would do that to you—to anyone. So, please, if Allura married someone else, it’s fine. I just need to know.”

Aeron was still staring at him, their lips pressed together so the stripe of red across their bottom lip stood out. “No,” they said. “She—you _are_ my dad.”

Relief loosed the vice around Shiro’s heart, but cold dread flooded in soon after. “Then...”

“I’m sorry.” Aeron breathed out a ragged breath and made a break for the door, head ducked so Shiro couldn’t read their expression. “I can’t.”

“Wait!” Shiro lunged after them as they fled, catching their arm. “I don't understand, Aeron! If I'm supposed to be your father, why are you avoiding me?”

They whirled, and Shiro was stunned into silence by the tears tracing paths down their cheeks. “Because you _died!_ ”

“What?”

Aeron pulled out of Shiro’s grip, wrapping their arms around their midsection. “You died,” they repeated, softer now. Their breath hitched, and they swiped at their eyes. “The last time I saw you, you were dying in my arms, and there was nothing I could do to save you.”

Shiro’s mouth ran dry. He stumbled forward, off-kilter, and reached for Aeron before he had time to think that they might not want his comfort. The instant his hand came down on their shoulder, though, they fell into his arms and clung to him like—well, like he was all they had left of their father.

“I’m sorry, Aeron,” Shiro whispered, pulling them closer. He felt their knees give out and lowered them both to the floor, never giving up his hold on them. On his child. The child he’d left fatherless.

The knowledge left a sour taste on his tongue, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more details. A morbid part of him wanted to know everything—when it had happened, how, whether his death had meant anything. There was a thought of changing things, but it faded quickly into the rush of emotion. Who was to say the future _could_ be changed?

So he said nothing, just held his child as they cried and told them everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Aeron breathed in the crisp, recycled air of the Black Lion’s cockpit. Her steady presence settled into a familiar place in their mind, and for a moment they could almost forget she wasn’t quite the Black they knew. Thirty years wasn’t much to a Voltron Lion, but the death of a pilot—the death of Aeron’s father, who had been so closely bonded to Black that his death had left deep scars—was not something that could be ignored.

Eight years had not dulled the ache of loss.

That day was burned into their memory. A diplomatic mission, one of the first Aeron had been allowed to participate in… Even now, they didn’t know what had gone wrong, whether deception on the part of the locals or a Galra plot. They just remembered the explosion. Coran had been caught up in the blast, and Aeron’s father had gone in to save him. Aeron followed, and only narrowly avoided being caught in the building’s collapse.

Funny, how being back here with Shiro could make them feel like a child again.

But he’d been there, as earnest as ever, every line of his body speaking to concern for their happiness, every word dripping with a desire to make things right. Aeron’s father had poured everything he had into his family.

They'd almost forgotten how much they'd missed him.

They felt lighter now that they'd told him, though slightly embarrassed by their breakdown.

Black rumbled reassurance, and Aeron smiled. It had been Shiro’s idea to take Black out for a spin, and Aeron had been afraid Black would refuse, as she’d refused to open for Aeron when they first arrived in this time. But she’d welcomed them, and the flight had loosened knots Aeron hadn’t even realized they’d been carrying. Their father was dead, and they dared not hope that would change, but if nothing else, they had at least found closure.

An alarm startled Aeron out of their thoughts. They spun the Black Lion around, scanning the stars, and spotted spotted it at the edge of the system: a Galra fleet. Heart pounding, they hailed the castle.

“Paladins, to your lions! Galra fleet incoming!”

It wasn’t until Keith jumped on the comms with a curse that Aeron remembered they weren’t in their own time. For a moment, they panicked. They’d never been into battle without Rose at their side, without their brother back on the castle-ship to provide support. They couldn’t—they couldn’t do this.

“Shiro.” Aeron faltered, bit their lip. “Dad. I’m going to hold them off until the others are out here, then I’ll trade places with you and you can--”

“No.”

Aeron hesitated. “What?”

“No,” Shiro repeated. “You’re already out there, and you’re just as much the black paladin as I am. You can do this, Aeron. I trust you.”

Mingled pride and grief stirred in Aeron’s chest, but they nodded, pulling out Black’s wing-blades as the Galra fleet formed up and headed toward Dovrura. Ships burned around them, and Black roared in Aeron’s head as they held the line. In moments, the Red Lion was there, arriving in a swirl of flame. The castle’s lasers joined the fray with pinpoint accuracy, knocking down ship after ship as the other paladins fell into formation.

Rose and Myhrin weren’t here. The rest of Aeron’s team wasn’t here. But their parents were, and these people were--or would be--Aeron's family. When they needed someone to take a shot, Lance was there; when they asked for scans of the battle cruiser, Pidge had them ready before the words were fully out of Aeron’s mouth. They flew in tandem with Keith, and Hunk caught a shot from their blind spot.

They cleared out the fleet quickly, Allura called out a warning as the battle cruiser began to charge its cannon, the barrel aimed directly at Dovrura.

“We can’t let them get that shot off,” Aeron called. “Everyone together now—form Voltron!”

They didn’t expect it to work. There were always hiccups when you added someone new to the formation. It took time, and it took a willingness to be open with each other—something Aeron just couldn’t bring themself to do, not when they knew so much about these people’s future.

But in a way, there was nothing new about this. Aeron knew Keith and Hunk and Lance and Pidge. They knew a version of them, anyway. And the other paladins knew Aeron’s parents. There were thirty years between them—but what was thirty years to Voltron?

The bond took root, and Aeron directed them toward the battle cruiser.

“Keith! Form sword!”

Power surged as the sword materialized. Hunk and Lance pivoted, and Keith sliced through the barrel of the ion cannon. Pidge latched onto the cruiser as Voltron drifted past, and they pivoted again, Keith reversing and bringing the sword up from below.

It sliced cleanly through the cruiser, leaving two halves drifting, the shredded shields flickering once, twice, before the power failed entirely.

Stillness returned to the system, and Aeron breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was some fine flying, everyone,” Shiro said warmly. “Good work. And Aeron—thank you. You’re team’s lucky to have you.”

* * *

By the following morning, they had the solution they'd been hunting for. However Aeron had ended up in the past, it had left an impression. A path they ought to be able to follow home. All they had to do was reopen the portal. To that end, Coran and Hunk had adapted the teludav technology, and Pidge had programmed it based on the energy spike from Aeron’s arrival.

“It’s going to take a lot of Quintessence to power this thing,” Pidge warned. The team had gathered at the point where Aeron had appeared, helmets sealed against the thin atmosphere. Aeron glanced at Allura.

“Well, what do you say, Mom? Together?”

Allura nodded and they stepped up to the device Hunk and Coran had built. It didn’t look like much; just a small silver cube with a single pedestal rising from the top. Allura laid one hand atop the pedestal, Aeron placed their hand over hers, and they both channeled their Quintessence into the device.

A ripple appeared in the air, then split into a milky blue portal tall enough to walk through.

“I guess this is it, then,” Aeron said, turning back to the paladins. Hunk sniffled, then surged forward, lifting Aeron off their feet. They wheezed, smiling despite themself. “Oh, come on, Uncle Hunk. I’m gonna be born in about seven years. That’s not so long.”

Hunk laughed, and as he pulled back, Pidge took his place. Keith and Lance were next, and Aeron pressed a small disk into Lance’s hand as they broke apart. Lance frowned, looking down at the device, and Aeron winked.

“A little memento,” they whispered, too quiet for even Keith to hear. “For when you’re homesick for something that hasn’t happened yet.”

Lance’s lip trembled, and he squeezed Aeron tight enough to force the air from their lungs. “Thank you.”

Aeron smiled, squeezing Lance back. By the time they parted, Coran was there, his smile sorrowful. Aeron’s breath quickened, and now the tears came. They remembered Coran as a pillar of their childhood, as good as a grandfather to all the paladins’ kids—right up until the day he died.

This version was virtually unchanged from the man Aeron had known. Not so many wrinkles, perhaps, and not yet any gray in his hair, but the same kind smile. The same ready hugs and gentle prodding that made Aeron spill everything.

He alone of anyone in this time had heard the full story of his death, and Shiro’s. Aeron hadn’t meant to say anything, and even now they told themself it wouldn’t change anything. But maybe…

Maybe.

Aeron clung to Coran, burying their face in the curve of his neck. “I’m going to miss you,” they whispered.

Coran sighed. “As will I. But we’ll see each other again, Aeron.”

“I hope so.”

Then all that remained was saying goodbye to their parents. Allura and Shiro stood together, radiant with pride and affection, and Aeron felt their tears spill over. Aeron focused on breathing and surged forward to hug them. Blinking against the tears, Aeron folded Shiro’s fingers over another projection disk, this one containing a picture of Aeron with their parents and brother.

“Don’t forget to have me, okay? And Myhrin, too.”

Allura laughed, then held out a necklace. Aeron recognized it as belonging to their grandmother; their mother wore it nearly every day. Their eyes widened. “I can’t--”

“Take it,” Allura said. “I want you to have a piece of me, whatever else happens.”

Aeron said nothing, just nodded, clutching the necklace to their chest, and stepped backward toward the portal. They got one last look at the team, happy and whole and hopeful, before they stepped out of time.

* * *

The castle was just the same as Aeron remembered it, albeit quieter. Med kits in every room—added after Rose’s... eventful childhood. Old finger paintings permanently emblazoned on the walls. The familiar sigh of the ventilation system, and the hum of Quintessence running through the conduits.

Aeron stepped out of the portal into the Black Lion’s hangar, unchanged down to the jacket Aeron had left draped over a chair. They went looking for their team, a corner of their mind irrationally convinced they’d come back ten thousand years too late, and everyone they’d know was long dead.

Voices in the distance led them to the rec room, where they found a crowd. Not just the other paladins, but many of their parents as well. Keith and Lance had claimed a corner of the couch; Hunk and Shay and the Holts were huddled by the wall, talking in low tones.

But it was Rose, pacing by the door and chewing on a fingernail, who noticed Aeron first. She stopped, mouth dropping open.

Then she shrieked, loud enough to shatter glass, and sprinted toward Aeron. “You big, stupid _jerk_!” she cried, slamming into them and spinning around. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?” Rose pulled back, punching Aeron in the shoulder. “You’re not allowed to do that again.”

Aeron chuckled, rubbing their arm. “Sorry,” they said, beaming as everyone else streamed forward to join in on the group hug. “I’m home now, though.”

A hand settled between Aeron’s shoulder blades, warm and heavy, and they began to turn, only to freeze when a familiar voice said, “You’re right.”

Aeron forgot how to breathe. It was only then that they spotted Coran across the room, smiling into his hand. There was gray in his hair, more than Aeron remembered, but his eyes sparkled mischievously as he came forward and put an arm around Allura’s shoulders.

Aeron turned.

“Dad?”

Their voice came out small, tears streaming down their face, but their father only smiled, pulling them against him. “Welcome home, kiddo.”


End file.
